


Don't read this. half a draft.

by BeaRyan



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Don't Read This, Gen, just a draft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-04
Updated: 2018-09-04
Packaged: 2019-07-06 22:11:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15895128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeaRyan/pseuds/BeaRyan
Summary: Not finished, but I need to clear the text out of Written Kitten so I can use it for something else. I've been screwed before by the draft system on here, so I'm popping this up.It stops mid sentence.  You will be dismayed if you read this.  Save yourself the pain.





	Don't read this. half a draft.

Just two dudes

Chilling in an algae bath. Five feet apart. 

Until they're not.

Read the tags before you get too excited. 

Asshole is John Murphy's curse word of choice. 

XXX

John Murphy didn't like being around people who were drinking. He put up with it because he wasn't going to let his mother's drunken cruelty fuck up his life in a way that other people could see, but he was never truly relaxed when other people had a few and let their guard down. That was when you could see who they really were, and they were usually assholes on the inside. 

Or worse, they weren't. Some of them were trying to be good people, and those were the worst. They knew they sucked. That they failed. That people had counted on them and died for it. And they dedicated themselves to being better. Loving better. Caretaking better. 

Life on the ring was just too much, too intense sometimes. 

"I'm gonna go clean the still before it gets crusty," Murphy said. Anything to get away from all the smiling and the casual touches. 

Monty's head rolled to the side from where it rested in Harper's lap and flashed him a lopsided grin. "Thanks, Murphy. It's not a still. It's a brew vat, but it's the thought that counts."

Murphy shrugged. "It's a bathtub full of slime."

Bellamy raised his cup of algae beer, "To distilled slime." 

Monty rubbed his forehead. "It's not distilled." 

Bellamy laughed. "To not distilled slime." 

Echo smiled at him and Murphy wondered how much longer it was going to take them to bang. Maybe they already were. Echo was the only person on the ring who played her cards as close as Murphy did, and she'd stopped hiding her preference for Bellamy's company a few weeks ago. For his part, Bellamy was the same touchy, overly affectionate asshole he'd been since about a year into Ring Time. He said he'd just finally caught up on his sleep, but it was more than that. 

Bellamy felt safe here. 

Loved. 

The fumes from the brewery room hit him as soon as the pressure seal on the door broke, and his throat burned in response. There was something wrong with people who wanted to imbibe whatever created that stench. Something wrong with all of them. They were happier for denying the hard truths of life, but that didn't make them right. 

What would it be like to be naive and happy? 

The sound of clean water splashing into the vat echoed off the walls of the small room. He could just run an inch or so into the tub and scrub down its walls, but fuck that. The water recycler would turn it all back into drinking water eventually. If they had to suffer through their morning hangovers without a burst of hydration maybe they'd think twice before drinking so much next time. 

Soap slowed down the process of the water recycler and so soap went into the tub of residual algae slime and burbling water. The bubbles frothed and reminded him of old movies where a kid filled up the tub and then decorated himself with tangible clouds of white. 

He wasn't a child and he wasn't going to take a bath. He was just here to clean. 

More soap. More bubbles. The froth grew until the tub was filled and he couldn't tell how much water was even in there. 

The door hissed and Bellamy walked into the room, his step only a little uneven. "What did you do?" 

"Just cleaning."

"Liar. That's a bubble bath. Come on." 

Echo grabbed Bellamy by the belt, stopping him as he tried to climb into the bath. "No shoes." 

Bellamy looked up at her. "Yeah. Good call." Bellamy sat down on the floor and tugged at Murphy's hand. "Shoes off. It's bath time." 

"You want me to take a bath with you?" 

Bellamy's head wobbled on his neck. "I mean, I guess it's your bath and you don't have to share if you don't want to, but..." His words drifted off as his attention shifted to the bubbles now stacked past the edge of the tub. "I've never seen anything like that except in a movie. Remember the first time you went swimming and how amazing that was? Just water all around you? This is the same thing but... foamy." He grasped Murphy's hand. "It's so beautiful."

Murphy pulled his hand away. "And you're so drunk."

"Lil bit. I still know something amazing when I see it." His hand wrapped around Murphy's ankle as his uneven but heart-breakingly sincere smile flashed. "Fun's better when you share it." 

Murphy's breath caught in his chest. Sharing had never been his strong suit, and whatever Bellamy was suggesting was outside of his experience. Things weren't going well with Emori but...

Bellamy tugged at Murphy's boots, slipping them off without waiting for approval. "C'mon," he said, then gripped the end of the tub and levered himself up and in. The bubbles collapsed under him, parting as if cut when he sat down. He scooped handfuls back over himself, hiding his pants in a blanked of white flecked with green. 

Murphy asked, "How is it?" 

"Pretty much exactly how it looks." 

"Looks ridiculous." 

"It is, but skip it and you'll regret it. Get in." 

Not for the first time Murphy wondered how Bellamy had wound up leading the way. It wasn't like Bellamy ever intended to take over; it just happened. The world bent to accommodate him as he passed through it. 

Echo's hand on his shoulder interrupted John's thoughts. "If you don't get in, I will." 

He recognized the statement for the manipulation it was, but she was giving him an out, too. She was perceptive that way, and it bothered him. There was nothing to do about it right, at least not directly, but given the chance to cock block her tonight he was taking it. "That's my bath." 

"So get in." 

He stepped in and pressed through the weird layer of foam that barely brushed against his bare skin. It seemed he should hit water quickly, but when he finally reached the bottom there was barely enough liquid in the tub to cover his foot. "It's all -" he swiped at it "- fluff." 

Bellamy laughed then shoved an armful of it at him. "Sit down and cover up. Enjoy it." 

The water was cold, Bellamy's legs were warm, and the contrast left John feeling unbalanced. His pants soaked through and the cold crept into places he didn't like having chilled. "So how long do we do this?" 

Bellamy shrugged. "Until it stops being fun." 

"It hasn't started being fun." 

Echo made a soft little sound, drawing Bellamy's attention. 

"What?" 

"If a shared bath isn't fun, you're doing it wrong." 

"What d

Scrap set two: Becho fic

Echo hears the footsteps coming up fast behind her and tenses, ready for attack. She understands the reasons that brought the prisoners, the faithful, and the rest all onto this ship together, but it's a miracle the peace has held this long and it's only been two days. 

She hears Bellamy's voice call her name and relaxes the turns to face him. He knows not to sneak up on her now, knows not to grab her from behind. She asks, "Why the smile?" 

"Everyone still awake is reliable." 

"So Murphy's tucked in bed?" 

He amends his answer. "Everyone still awake is unlikely to stab us in the shower." 

"If I'm safe that means Octavia and Clarke are in cryo." 

He rolls his eyes, acknowledging the truth but reluctant to admit that her caution isn't all wrong. "Guess you'll have to shower with me." 

She leans against the wall, makes eye contact, and gives a soft, quiet groan that he recognizes instantly. "Glad we're on the same page."


End file.
